


the world turned upside down

by melissa13



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hook!Emma, Savior!Killian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissa13/pseuds/melissa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian raised a dubious eyebrow. “Captain Hook’s a girl?” he asked dryly.</p><p>“I’m all woman, as you can see, love,” she said with an accompanying wink.</p><p>Savior!Killian and Hook!Emma AU :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. x and y

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Any familiar dialogue belongs to A&E and Once Upon a Time. 
> 
> I've been dying to do this fic for a while. I only hope I can do it justice! Here's the first chapter. Hope you enjoy :)

_x and y_  
 _the land, sea, rivers, trees, the stars, the sky_  
 _that and this_  
 _we're part of a bigger plan_  
 _don't know what it is_  
 _don't know what it is_

                                        **~  coldplay**

Killian was the first one to see her. A wriggling hand amongst the debris and bodies, it only took a second for the four of them to converge on the spot.

“Please, don’t hurt me, please,” a thin voice cried, and finally they moved a body aside to reveal a young woman, her long blonde hair tangled and pale skin smudged with dirt. Neither did a thing to diminish her beauty, however, and Killian couldn’t explain the shiver that ran down his spine when her wide, green eyes darted over to him.

“You’re safe with us, dear,” Mary Margaret said soothingly. “Killian, help get her over to those tables.”

He only paused a moment before doing as she asked, gathering the girl up into his arms gingerly, noting the heavy cloak she was wearing. She stared up at him, her expression the picture of relief and gratitude.

“Oh, thank you so much,” she babbled, one of her hands clutching at his leather jacket. It was then that he realized she only had the one, her other arm ending abruptly in what looked to be some sort of brace. “I don’t know what I would have done if you all hadn’t stumbled upon me. I shudder to think,” she said, and she actually stopped speaking and shuddered, tears sparkling in her eyes.

And Killian didn’t know why, but he just didn’t buy it. He’d seen his fair share of fake cries in his life; Mave had been able to shed a tear at the drop of a hat and had used that skill many times to get them out of a bind. He shook his head slightly, trying to focus on the girl in his arms and not his dead girlfriend. She noticed his eyes on her and gave her a watery smile which he didn’t return.

“There, there,” he said, albeit a little awkwardly, and set her down at the end of one of the tables. “Stay right here. I’m going to get you some water.”

She caught his sleeve as he turned away. “Thank you, thank you again—” she trailed off and prompted him with a hopeful look.

“Killian,” he supplied hesitantly. “Killian Jones.”

She smiled brightly. “Killian,” she repeated, giving him an adoring glance. “My hero.”

He gave her a small upturn of the lips before striding away. He didn’t know how, but he knew she wasn’t some helpless victim. Her eyes held a steeliness and determined look to them that he’d seen before in some of his marks. Killian shared his thoughts with Mulan when she joined him by the water sprig.

“You must have seen her around camp before,” he said, as they started back slowly. “What’s her story?”

“She’s a seamstress,” Mulan told him. “She joined us about a month ago, saying that she’d lost her hand in an ogre attack. You think she’s lying?”

“Maybe,” Killian shrugged, although he was almost 100% certain she was. “I just don’t think Cora’s the type of person to leave any stone unturned. She’s tricked us once. What’s to stop her from doing it again?”

They quit their discussion as they came back to the girl, and Killian set a cup of water before her, which she eagerly snatched up.

“How can I ever repay you all for your kindness towards me?” she asked them. “I must be the luckiest lass in all the land.”

Killian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She really was quite the little actress, and one look at Mary Margaret and Aurora made it clear that they were just eating it up. Well, he hated to burst their bubble, but he needed answers, and he didn’t particularly care how much of a bastard he had to be to get them.

“Want to tell us how you were the only one who managed to escape?” he asked, ignoring the admonishing glance Mary Margaret sent his way.

She wove quite the emotional tale, her voice wavering as she told them of how she crawled underneath the bodies of others to hide from Cora’s wrath. Killian could read her, though; she licked her lips nervously as she spoke, but her eyes remained cold and calculating throughout.

“I had no choice, really,” she told them, defending her cowardly actions. “I did what I had to do to survive.”

Killian gazed down at her for a moment before leaning his elbows down against the table so that they were at eye level. “I just want you to know,” he said quietly. “You may have the others fooled with this little charade, but to me, you’re somewhat of an open book, and the writing’s not quite lining up here.”

“What cause would I have to lie about this?” she said desperately, and Killian studied her for a moment, noting the tensions in her jaw and the fierce gleam in her eyes.

He simply smirked at her before turning away.

“We should head out in case Cora decides to return,” Mulan urged them.

“And we should start looking for a way back to Storybrooke,” Mary Margaret added. “I only got a few moments with my husband. Not to mention my granddaughter.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to have a granddaughter?” the girl asked in an attempt at friendliness, and Killian looked at her sharply, her interest in Victoria raising all sorts of alarms in his head.

“It’s a long story,” Mary Margaret replied, favoring the girl with a smile.

“Please, allow me to assist you all on your journey,” she said, looking around at them all earnestly, and behind her, Killian decided he’d had just about enough. “It’s the least I can do. I know this land quite well. I could help guide—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he’d gripped her shoulder firmly, leaning down, mouth close to her ear. “I don’t think so, Blondie,” he growled, pulling back slightly so that he could look her in the eye. “Now, I’m only going to ask this nicely once, who the hell are you?”

 

The girl had maintained her story: she was a simple seamstress from the countryside who had taken refuge at the campsite when her small village had been attacked by ogres. Seemed simple enough, and yet Killian just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was lying to them. He didn’t know how or why, but he felt connected to the young woman and nothing she said rang true. So, he had to resort to extreme measures. He wouldn’t let anything or anyone prevent him from returning to his daughter, not when he’d only just gotten to know her.

“Why are you doing this to me?” the woman cried as Mulan finished tying her to the tree. “I thought you were good people. I’ve told you, I’m nothing but a simple seamstress.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Killian said. A long time ago, he’d been a good man, a man of honor. Lieutenant Jones would have been horrified to see what he’d become today, but right now, Killian couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed answers. He whistled sharply, and the answering roar of nearby ogres told him that they had little time. “The ogres I’ve met so far haven’t been much for conversation, but perhaps you’ll prefer them to us.”

There was another furious roar that made them all flinch, and he motioned for the ladies to follow him.

Behind him, he heard the girl struggle against her bonds. “You can’t just leave me like this!”

“What if she’s telling the truth?” came Aurora’s timid voice.

“She’s not,” Killian said curtly. He was sure the girl would prove his gamble right in 3, 2…

A harsh chuckle sounded behind them, stopping him in his tracks. 1.

“Quite the clever boy, aren’t you?” the girl said, effortlessly shedding the damsel-in-distress tone and adopting a coy, mocking one. “It appears I’ve met my match. Who knew it would be in the _Savior_?”

Killian’s eyes narrowed at the ‘S’ word, and he marched back to the tree even as the ogre’s growling grew louder. “You seem to know who I am, and yet, you still haven’t introduced yourself. That’s bad form, sweetheart. Now, who are you?”

“Sweetheart, I like that,” she simpered, batting her eyes at him. When he didn’t take the bait, she sighed dramatically. “Emma Swan, but most people know me by my more colorful moniker.” At Killian’s questioning look, she simply supplied: “Hook.”

“Hook,” he heard Mary Margaret breath in surprise.

Killian raised a dubious eyebrow. “Captain Hook’s a girl?” he asked dryly.

“I’m all woman, as you can see, love,” she said with an accompanying wink. “Hook’s in my satchel, if you don’t believe me.”

Killian turned away from her to see Mary Margaret dive anxiously into the satchel, before pulling out a gleaming, silver hook and holding it up in alarm. There was another burst of roaring as the ogres drew closer to them, and Killian glanced back to the Swan girl calculatingly. He would have to be a fool to trust her now, especially if she was the real Captain Hook. It was ridiculous, but then again so was being the son of Snow White and Prince Charming. Swan may have lacked the perm and waxed mustache of the Hook he was familiar with, but there was an air of danger around her that made him think she was probably just as ruthless.

“Those ogres sound hungry,” Killian told her in a low voice. “So, unless you want to be dinner, I suggest you tell us what we want to know.”

She narrowed her eyes defiantly at him before her lips twisted into a smirk. “Cora thought I might be able to gain your trust, that you would tell me about your land, this Storybrooke, so that there would be no surprises upon her arrival,” Hook told them.

“She has a way to get there?” Killian asked immediately. “How?”

“Why, the same wardrobe that sent _you_ there,” Hook said, raising her eyebrows at him.

“That’s not possible,” Mary Margaret said. “The wardrobe was destroyed.”

“Aye, it was,” Hook agreed. “But the enchantment that lay upon the wood still remains, and Cora has the ashes. She’s going to use them to open up a portal.”

Another bout of growling made them all jump again, and Killian exchanged a look with Mary Margaret. The ogres couldn’t be that far away now. They didn’t have much time left.

“Now, I enjoy a little bondage as much as the next girl,” Hook said. “But I think it’s time for us to take our leave.”

“No,” Mulan objected fiercely, eyeing Hook with distaste. “We should leave her here to die, to pay for all the lives she took.”

“That wasn’t me,” she snapped, displaying the first sign of agitation he’d seen from her so far. “That was Cora.”

“Why should we believe anything you say?” Killian asked bluntly. He didn’t want to leave her, but he would in a second if he thought she would in any way prevent him from getting back to Victoria. It was a sobering realization to say the least.

“Because, you and I want the same thing,” Hook said, looking at him and only him now, her green eyes piercing his. “To get to your land, and just like you, I’m willing to do anything to achieve that. I made a deal with the devil when I had limited options, I admit it, but now that I’ve seen what you’re capable of, I’ll offer you the same deal.”

With increasing uneasiness due to the loud roars of the monsters closing in on them, Hook explained the magical compass that Cora needed to obtain in order to find Storybrooke. Killian studied her as she spoke, and found that despite her nervousness, she seemed to be telling the truth.

“It seems too good to be true,” Mary Margaret said uneasily.

“Only one way to find out,” Hook retorted.

The loudest of the growling caused them all to look anxiously into the woods, and they pulled out their weapons. Killian only had one more question. He withdrew his sword from his scabbard, the object still feeling foreign in his hand, and pointed it threateningly at Hook. The time for cordiality had passed, and judging by the steely expression on her face, Swan had realized it as well.

“Answer me one thing,” Killian whispered urgently, edging closer to her. “What’s there for you? Why does Captain Hook want to go to Storybrooke so badly?”

Hook’s expression darkened noticeably, her eyes filling with an intense rage. “To exact revenge on the man who cut off my hand and destroyed my life,” she snarled. “Rumplestiltskin.”

Killian inhaled sharply. He hadn’t expected that, though it was somehow reassuring to know that Gold had enemies no matter what realm they were in. There was no love lost between himself and the pawn shop owner, especially after the man had left him in that elevator shaft. There was something else though; it wasn’t just hatred that glittered dangerously behind Hook’s eyes. It was loss, not for her hand, but for someone, maybe? He saw his own desperation to get back to Storybrooke mirrored in her gaze, and he wondered if it was only Rumplestiltskin that she was trying to get to.

“Killian, honey,” Mary Margaret warned, bow and arrow raised taut and aimed towards the woods.

He let out a frustrated sigh before moving quickly to the ropes holding Hook against the tree, and loosening the knots Mulan had made.

Hook tried to smile at him encouragingly, her relief palpable. “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“See that I don’t,” Killian hissed, and he forced her around in front of him as the group fled in the opposite directions from the ogres. He kept an unyielding hand on her arm, though he had a feeling that if she wanted to escape, it would be only too easy.

“Hmm, a firm grip,” she murmured coyly, looking down at his hand. “I appreciate that in a man.”

Killian ignored her. “Which way?” he asked as they came to a fork in the path. One led into the forest and the other, towards some hills.

Hook nodded towards the forest, gesturing him down the path. Killian mirrored her nod. “After you.”

She smiled, all amusement now that she wasn’t tied to a tree. Killian didn’t know if it was because the clouds had parted to bath her in sunlight, but he was suddenly struck by her wild beauty: the fullness and curvature of her lips; the gold of her hair as it lay tousled across her shoulders; and those enticing green of her eyes.

“As m’lord commands,” she said, with a little mocking tip of her head, and that’s when Killian knew he was in trouble.


	2. the missing piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have got to be kidding me," Killian groaned, staring at the large, green monstrosity jutting out of the earth and piercing up through the cloud cover above. He shot Mary Margaret a incredulous look. "A beanstalk, really?"
> 
> She grimaced and shrugged, and Killian realized he was talking to the same woman who had a conversation with a bird the day before. Beside her, Hook was all smiles. "Aye, and, gods willing, we shall find the compass at the top."

_You and me_   
_The land, sun, trees, the sky, the stars, the sea_  
 _365 degrees_  
 _I am a puzzle, you're the missing piece_  
 _Hang on a minute, just a minute, please_  
 _I'll come_  
 _And everything under the sun_  
 _And everything under the sun_

"I don't know if this is such a good idea," Mary Margaret said as they trekked through the forest. She cast a wary eye at Hook walking up ahead, wrists tied together courtesy of Mulan. "Do you think she can be trusted?"

"Oh, I _know_ she can't be trusted," was Killian's resounding answer. He studied their guide with a critical eye. She seemed to be at quite at ease despite her bound wrists, grinning as she said something no doubt inappropriate to Aurora. "But I figure she'll have to let us in on a few of Cora's secrets to keep us happy, and the more we know about Cora's plans the better."

Mary Margaret nodded her head in agreement, giving him an approving smile, and continued on ahead of him.

"We're close!" Hook called over her shoulder back to them. "It should be just over this ridge."

"And what is ' _it_ ' exactly?" Killian asked.

"You shall see," she sang with glee, causing a knot of dread to form in the pit of his stomach. Anything that had the pirate that happy could not be good.

He got his answer a minute later as they finally scaled the top of the ridge.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Killian groaned, staring at the large, green monstrosity jutting out of the earth and piercing up through the cloud cover above. He shot Mary Margaret a incredulous look. "A beanstalk, really?"

She grimaced and shrugged, and Killian realized he was talking to the same woman who had a conversation with a bird the day before. Beside her, Hook was all smiles. "Aye, and, gods willing, we shall find the compass at the top."

"Let me guess," Killian said dryly. "It's being guarded by a murderous giant."

"How did you know?" Hook asked, looking disconcerted.

"The stories managed to get something right for once," Killian replied. He gestured for them to start climbing down the ridge. "Come on, the sooner we get down there, the sooner we can start climbing."

* * *

Up close, the beanstalk was an even more daunting prospect than it'd been from afar, and as Hook regaled them with the history of The Enchanted Forest giants, Killian found his stomach churning with apprehension. He had a bad feeling about this, but they needed that compass, and if climbing a freaking beanstalk to get it was what he needed to do to get back to Victoria, that's what he would do.

"Alright, so we scale up the beanstalk, find this magic compass, come back down, find Cora, get the wardrobe ashes and go home," Killian said, more confidently than he actually felt. "Let's get to it then."

Hok grimaced, adopting an innocent expression. "Ah, see, there's one little hitch I forgot to mention," she told them, and Killian narrowed his eyes at her. "The giant placed an enchantment on the beanstalk to keep intruders such as ourselves off of it."

"Lovely," Killian drawled exasperatedly. He was getting really tired of this girl's games. "And I suppose you have a way around that?"

"Well, my dear, as luck would have it, Cora gave me a counter curse before we parted ways," Hook explained. She brandished her bound wrists hopefully. "If you'd be so kind as to untie me, I would be happy to show you."

Killian and Margaret exchanged glances with Aurora and Mulan before they wordlessly stepped over to Hook. Mary Margaret untied the ropes around her wrists, glaring at the girl. She seemed personally offended about her helpless seamstress act. Noticing Killian supervising, the pirate shot him a saucy wink over Mary Margaret's shoulder, causing him to roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Much obliged, Your Highness," she practically purred, and Mary Margaret huffed.

Once free, Hook wasted no time in casting off the heavy peasant clock she'd been wearing since the refugee camp. Underneath, she was garbed in burgundy leather pants and matching vest with white shirt sleeves. She wore a number silver necklaces, which came to rest between her breasts, the neckline of her shirt tantalizingly low due to several undone buttons. Killian wondered if she did that on purpose or if maybe it was too hard to button her shirt with only one hand. She caught him staring and gave him a wicked grin, and he decided it was definitely the former.

"Like what you see, love?"

"Get on with it," Killian ordered.

She sniffed. "Have it your way, then." Hook held up her wrist for the four of them to see. "Now, sadly, I only have one more of these cuffs. The other was to be used by Cora." She cast a playful eye over them all. "Now, whom will I have the great pleasure of climbing with today?" They all looked amongst themselves uncertainly, causing her to chuckle. "Please, don't all volunteer at once."

The four of them pow-wowed together, Hook looking on in amusement from nearby, and Killian listened to all of their justifications as to why they should be the one to go before interjecting, his patience wearing thin.

"It anyone's going, it's going to be me," he told them firmly.

"If this is because we're women—" Mulan began to protest, her expression fierce.

"It's not," Killian assured her. "I know what you're all capable of, but Mary Margaret is right. We've got a bigger stake in this than you do."

"It should be me then," Mary Margaret insisted, and not for the first time, Killian thought of how he must have inherited her stubborness. "You're still new here."

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you go up there with Hook alone," Killian told her.

"Ouch, that hurts," the pirate said, placing a hand mockingly over her heart.

They all ignored her. "You know I would do anything to get us back to Victoria and David," Killian said, placing a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder. "I won't fail." His mother—it felt strange for him to think of her as that since she'd first been his friend—nodded briskly, but he could tell she was worried.

"Here," Mulan said, drawing his attention. She pulled a cloth covered jar out of her satchel. "Take this with you. It's powder made from poppies. If they giant inhales it, it should put him to sleep, giving you time to search for the compass."

Killian took it gratefully. "Thank you."

He gave Mary Margaret a reassuring look before stepping away from the group and over to where Hook was waiting.

She grinned at him as he approached. "Ah, I'd have picked you, too," she said, which he was obviously supposed to take as a compliment.

Killian matched her smirk with one of his own. "Let's just get this over with," he retorted, unzipping the sleeve of his leather jacket and holding out his wrist to her.

"Just lay that here, like so," Hook directed, guiding his hand to her shoulder, her smile wide at his discomfort. "Mmm, isn't this nice?" She clipped the magic cuff to Killian's wrist. "This will allow you to climb, which makes the beanstalk the least of our worries. Once we make it to the top, we shall have to be on our guard at all times." She gestured to her hookless hand expectantly. "Now, my hook, if you please."

He couldn't expect her to climb with only one hand, Killian reasoned with himself, looking down at her earnest expression. It was with great reluctance that he dug into Hook's satchel and withdrew her hook, wondering how many throats she'd slit with it's sharp point.

"No funny business, alright?" Killian warned her, handing it over.

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it, love," she retorted, clicking the hook back into place.

He rolled his eyes and slung the satchel over his shoulders. They both headed over to the beanstalk, Killian looking back at Mary Margaret one last time. She gave him an encouraging nod which bolstered his confidence, and without further contemplation he found his first handhold and began the ascent.

* * *

"Enjoying the view down there?"

Killian gritted his teeth and ignored her, focusing instead on the placement of his hands and feet as he climbed. He would not give her the satisfaction of rising to her bait, though, and he was slightly ashamed to admit it, he hadn't failed to notice her shapely form climbing above him; it was hard not to, what with those leather pants clinging to her every curve.

"Ooo, the strong silent type, eh?" she teased, stopping momentarily to grin at him. "Not to worry, I love a good challenge."

"If you don't mind, I'm trying to concentrate here," Killian told her irritably. "It's not every day one climbs a beanstalk."

The girl huffed. "Very well."

They lapsed into silence and continued climbing. Killian tilted his head up slightly and figured they were maybe a little more than halfway up. He didn't dare look down, afraid that if he did he'd lose his nerve.

"So, who's Victoria?" Hook asked, despite only minutes passing in silence.

Killian found himself blindsided by his daughter's name on her lips and almost lost his footing. "No one," he said brusquely, steadying himself.

Hook looked down at him in concern for a moment before pressing on. "Your lover?"

"No."

"A child, then," she guessed. "Your daughter, perhaps?"

Killian gritted his teeth again. "I don't have a daughter," he bit out, mentally berating himself for being so unconvincing.

The pirate had the nerve to laugh. "Aw, nice try," she said mockingly, "But I am going to let you in on a little secret, Jones. I have this little quirk, call it my 'magic power': I can tell when anyone is lying."

Killian snorted. "A pirate with an internal lie detector?" he asked.

"Ah, but I wasn't always a pirate," she told him, her tone growing a touch wistful. "Believe it or not, I used to be quite the respectable wench."

She had stopped climbing, and Kilian, watching the myriad of emotions flit across her face, had come to a halt as well. After a moment, she seemed to come back to herself and their eyes met. She felt real to him in that vulnerable moment: neither the helpless damsel she'd first pretended to be nor the provocative pirate, she was simply a woman remembering better times. He could relate to that.

"But we were talking about you," she said, breaking eye contact and digging her hook into the beanstalk above her. "You and your daughter. Amazing, isn't it? How easy it is, how instinctual it becomes?"

"How what becomes?" Killian asked, following after her.

"Caring," she said simply, stopping again and glancing over at him. "Loving your own despite never having received the same yourself."

And Killian thought about how naturally he'd fallen into fatherhood, despite being rather unceremoniously thrust into it. When Mave had died, he'd thought all capacity to love had died with her, but not a day had gone by when he hadn't wondered where the baby that she'd died giving birth to was; if she was being loved and taken care of. In only a matter of days, maybe hours, Victoria had become the most important thing in his life, which was why he couldn't fail in returning to her. He'd already abandoned her once, and he'd be damned if he was going to do it again.

"You speak as if from experience," Killian noted, raising his eyebrows at her. "Do you have children of your own?"

Hook stared across at him, an inscrutable expression on her face. After a moment, she blinked and looked away, her wall going up. "Perhaps you were right before," she said cooling, returning to the climb. "Silence is best if we're to concentrate."

He'd touched a nerve obviously, and was surprised to feel a tad bit guilty about it. Then again, she'd needled him incessantly about Victoria, wasn't he allowed to do the same? Evidently not. How interesting a picture their little conversation presented, though. Something had happened to this woman that had her hiding her pain behind a facade of innuendo and false bravado. He wondered if it had to do with Gold, and figured that part of it probably did. He was curious, curiosity being one of his many faults. All he knew was apparently there was more to this Captain Hook than met the eye.

* * *

They spent the rest of their assent in silence, though it was not uncomfortable or awkward at all. Killian's arms were trembling with exertion as they neared the top, and even Hook's gumption seemed to be failing her. Her hand and hook placement grew clumsier, and she let out an angry curse when she accidently placed her hand on of the beanstalks many thorns. Luckily, they were only feet from the top and it was with great relief that they clambered down onto solid ground. Or, Killian reasoned, whatever it was that was holding the giant's massive palace up hundreds of feet in the air. He felt small indeed gazing up at the structure, wondering how in the hell they were going to do this.

Low cursing brought his attention back to Swan who was eyeing her bleeding hand disdainfully. Making a sudden decision, she pulled a flask from seemingly thin air and, using her mouth, popped open the cork and poured it on the wound, grimacing as she did so. The potent scent of rum wafted over to him, making his stomach recoil. It had been years since he'd had rum. It reminded him of the dark period of time after Liam's death when every day had been a drunken haze, and he'd been unceremoniously discharged from his unit.

Swan noticed him watching her as she unwrapped a scarf from around her neck. "Giants can smell blood," she told him. "Don't want to take any chances now, do we?"

She went to wrap the scarf around her hand and Killian, seeing how difficult it might be trying to do that with one hand, found himself stepping forward.

"Let me do that," he said, and she looked at him as though it were a trick, like she'd never been offered a simple kindness in her life, and maybe she hadn't.

"I can do it my—"

"I insist."

She scanned his eyes carefully before handing over the scarf, and he set to work wrapping it carefully around the cut.

"So, now you're a gentleman?" she asked softly, eyes intent on his face.

"Don't read into it too much," Killian told her, but softening it with a slight smile, their eyes meeting. What was wrong with him? He knew he couldn't trust her and here he was flirting with her. Looking away, he changed the subject and continued bandaging her hand. "What's the plan here?"

"Sneak in, find the compass before the giant finds us, sneak out again?" she suggested with a shrug, and he could feel her still surveying him.

"That's the best you can come up with?" Killian asked, his pitch rising noticeably. Some pirate she was. Maybe this was why Peter Pan got the best of Captain Hook in all the stories.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Maybe," Killian said. He paused to tie off the ends of the scarf, smoothing it over her hand. "Good?"

She flexed it experimentally. "It'll do," she said, before looking at him gratefully. "Thank you."

Killian nodded before pulling out the cloth covered jar Mulan had given him. "I think our best bet would be to use Mulan's knockout powder," he told her. "With the giant out of the way for sure, we'll have free range over the place."

Swan pursed her lips in thought. "A risky wager, but one with a potentially big payoff," she considered. A wicked grin that did something funny to Killian's stomach blossomed across her face. "Not a bad plan at all. You know, you'd make a halfway decent pirate."

Killian shook his head in amusement. "Thanks, I think." He proffered the poppy powder to her. "Here."

When she extended her hand, that's when he saw it. He couldn't believe he'd missed it when he'd been wrapping her hand, but the tattoo on her wrist certainly caught his attention now. It was very simple black and white likeness of a boy, about 10 or 11, the features unmistakable and impossibly familiar to Killian.

She grasped the jar, but Killian didn't let go on his end. "Who is that?" he asked, gesturing to her tattoo.

A closed expression came over her face, features darkening, and she tugged the poppy powder out of his hand. "Someone from long ago."

"Your son?" he persisted. When she refused to answer, he tried a different approach. "What happened to him?"

She gave him a long hard stare, tilting her chin up almost defiantly. "He died."

Killian's shocked intake of breath was no act, though she probably thought it was for a different reason. There was only one thing running through his mind, however: _she didn't know_. She'd been fighting tooth and nail to get to Storybrooke and she had no idea.

"Gold," he blurted out, but something stopped him from revealing the truth. "Rumplestiltskin. Your hand wasn't the only thing he took from you, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," she whispered harshly, and her voice grew heated as she pressed closer to him until their faces were only inches away. "But before you judge me, think about your daughter, your Victoria. What would you do if someone took her away from you? Ripped out her heart in front of your very eyes and before she could even draw her last breath, disappeared with her body so that you couldn't even give her a proper burial? What would you do, Jones?"

As her eyes bore into his, he remembered the terror he'd felt when Victoria had collapsed after eating Regina's apple turner, then the subsequent rage and hatred that had welled up in him when he'd seen Regina at the hospital. How he'd threatened her and had fully intended to carry out said threat if Victoria hadn't made it.

"I'd be doing exactly the same thing as you."

She searched his eyes for a lie, and when she couldn't find one, her glare lessened and she nodded. "Then you and I understand each other," she said finally.

"I guess we do," Killian agreed.

Hook moved away after a moment, putting some distance between them. "Come," she bid him, attempting a smile, though it was a mere ghost of her usual cocky grin. "Time for us to give that giant a little surprise."

Following after her, his mind reeling with everything he'd learned in the last few minutes, Killian thought that the giant wasn't the only one who was going to be getting a surprise. And what a revelation it would be. How exactly did you tell someone that the son they'd thought had died long ago, the son whose death you were actively trying to seek vengeance for, was actually still alive and well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos, comments, and bookmarksI hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It was definitely fun to write, especially the end of it. Next chapter should be really great too.
> 
> A couple things though. 1) Someone asked me if Killian and Emma's accents are switched and that's a definite yes. I know, I have Killian talking a little formally sometimes, but he has an American accent and Emma has a British one. 2) Bits and pieces of Emma and Killian's histories have come out and more will be revealed. I'm trying to keep them similar to their actual canon histories but they'll have differences. 3) Mave = Milah, who's dead. 4) Liam is Killian's foster brother, also dead, (poor Killy). 5) Some things will play out like they did in the show, others will not. 6) I like including actual lines from the show, like "I'd pick you", gumption, the whole gentlemen thing, so expect more of those.
> 
> I think that's it. Please let me know what you guys think! Your reviews encourage me to write faster! And next chapter should be a doozy! :)


	3. what is this feeling that I can't explain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian jerked his head back to Swan's to find her face only inches from his. "You...saved me," he said, no small amount of wonder in his voice.
> 
> "I—," she stuttered, her green eyes searching his as if she too was shocked by her own actions. She swallowed. "It was the right thing to do." She blinked and looked away, shaking her head a bit as if to wake herself up, and when her eyes met his again, her walls were back up, a sultry smile sliding across her lips. "Besides, look how cozy this is," she purred, pressing herself closer to him.

_What is this feeling that I can't explain?_   
_And why am I never gonna sleep again?_   
_What is this thing I've never seen before?_   
_A little boy lost in a breaking storm_   
_Hide and sob, and away they fly_   
_To write your name in the summer sky_   
_Life has really only just begun_   
_Life that comes_   
_And everything under the sun_

The plan they devised was so simple that Killian almost worried it wouldn't work, but it did perfectly. When they banged on his front door, the giant charged out and tripped right over the bit of beanstalk he and Hook held between them, allowing the pirate ample time to throw Mulan's poppy powder right into his face.

Killian breathed a sigh of relief as the giant began to snore, the powder putting him right to sleep. "You know," he called over to Hook, "We make a pretty good team."

She smiled at him from the other side of the giants collapsed form. "I assure you, we would make an even better one in the boudoir."

Killian snorted, shaking his head in amusement. He was glad that she seemed to be back to her sultry self. "Come on," he said, gesturing inside with a nod of his head. "That compass isn't going to find itself."

Carefully skirting around the giant, they entered his castle togther, Killian peering around him in wonder. Everything towered above them, ten times the normal size, though most of the foyer appeared to be in ruins just as the courtyard had been.

"What happened here?" Killian asked, his voice hushed despite them being alone.

"This is where the last battle was fought," Hook explained in the same low tone. She surveyed the room sadly. "The humans invaded the castle and slaughtered all of the giants. Except for our friend back there, of course." She ran her fingers over what once was probably a beautiful tapestry, but was now tarnished with lack of care. "Quite the shame. The giants once had a very rich culture."

"I thought they were all savage monsters," Killian said, brow furrowed in confusion.

Hook shook her head, turning away from the tapestry. "That's just what we were led to believe," she explained, her expression souring. "You forget, history is written by the winners, and the losers are rarely painted in a fair light."

Leaving him with that poignant thought, she brushed past him and continued on into the castle. Killian followed, trying in vain to clear his head and focus on the task on hand, but he couldn't get the image of Hook's tattoo out of his mind. He knew he should just come out and tell her the truth; it's what Prince Charming would do, after all, but no matter who his parents were, he was no knight in shining armor and his life sure as hell hadn't been any kind of fairytale. The shrew, calculating part of him that had developed post-discharge from the Navy told him that he needed to keep the information to himself. No matter what he thought of Swan now, and he couldn't deny that there was something about her, she was still a pirate and could and would have no qualms about turning on him, and if that moment came, he would need to have some kind of leverage.

His train of thought was interrupted by Hook humming appreciately as they came upon what appeared to be the treasure room. There was treasure from wall to wall, from ceiling to floor; gold, jewels, clothing, rare objects, and Killian felt overwhelmed by the sight of it. Hook seemed to be in her own little happy place as she gravitated towards a table with a pile of coins on it, surrounding a gold chalice. Killian felt his anxiety rise as she stopped to appraise them.

"So much treasure," she murmured, her concern over the plight of the giants seemingly gone in lieu of being face to face with their riches.

Killian peered around him, eyes darting to and fro. "How the hell are we supposed to find the compass in this mess?" he asked, turning back to her.

"With a fair bit of searching," Hook mused distractedly, picking up the chalice. After a moment of admiring it in her hand, she slipped it into her satchel.

Killian rolled his eyes. "Can we get on with it then?" he asked dryly.

Hook nodded her assent, prying her eyes away from the gold. "Aye," she agreed. "There's no telling when the warrior's poppy powder will wear off." She gestured ahead of them with a confident smile. "Come, I happen to be an expert at finding buried treasure."

Killian started backpedaling, all the while shaking his head at her, and was startled by her sudden shout and her pulling him back in her direction and straight into her arms. She was looking down, and he followed her gaze to find that he'd been inches away from tripping a wire. Above them, they spied tons of rubble suspended in a net, ready to come crashing down on the unsuspecting person who triggered the primitive security system.

Killian jerked his head back to Swan's to find her face only inches from his. "You...saved me," he said, no small amount of wonder in his voice.

"I—," she stuttered, her green eyes searching his as if she too was shocked by her own actions. She swallowed. "It was the right thing to do." She blinked and looked away, shaking her head a bit as if to wake herself up, and when her eyes met his again, her walls were back up, a sultry smile sliding across her lips. "Besides, look how cozy this is," she purred, pressing herself closer to him.

He narrowed his eyes at her even as he struggled to put some distance between them. He was, after all, a man, and she was a beautiful woman, his body clearly starting to respond to that. Something in her eyes caught his attention, though, even as he untangled himself from her. Beneath her seductive and arrogant facade, there was something else: Fear. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? What had she to fear from him? She was Captain Hook, one of the most infamous pirates of all time, and he was the sheriff of a town full of fairytale characters.

She turned her face from his, but not before he observed a steely determination spreading across her features. "Come," she commanded brusquely, eyeing something on the ground behind him. He turned to look and spotted a skeleton on the ground, a long sword clasped in it's grip. "We don't want to end up like Jack here."

She gingerly stepped over the trip wire, and Killian glanced back at the skeleton one more time before following after her. "Are you telling me that's Jack from the stories?" he asked incredulously.

"Aye," she replied. "She must have put up a hell of a fight before she died."

 _She?_ Killian wanted to say, but refrained. Was Peter Pan actually a girl, too? He just shook his head, focus returning to finding that damned compass.

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Killian told her.

"So you can find the compass and leave me here?" Hook snorted, about facing to cast him a dubious look. "I don't think so, darling."

She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm, and her eyes flashed at him dangerously, but she didn't run him through with her hook so he plowed on. "Look, if we're going to have any chance of finding this compass, we have to figure out how to trust each other," he reasoned.

"The only person I can trust is myself," she hissed, ripping her arm out of his grasp. "How else do you think I've survived all these years? No, we search together, until we find it."

Killian opened his mouth to reply when suddenly the whole palace shook as if an earthquake had struck it. He and Hook exchanged a look of pure dread and both jumped when a loud, angry roar echoed through the room, causing treasure to fall all around them.

"Hide!" Hook yelled, but it was too late.

The giant appeared at the end of the long hall, charging towards them, causing the floor to convulse with each of his heavy footsteps. Before Killian could do anything however, bits of ceiling were raining down on him, trapping him, and the last thing he heard was Hook's voice frantically yelling his name before a piece of rubble nailed him in the back of the head. Then, there was only darkness.

* * *

The throbbing pain in his head was what woke him. He was still trapped under the rubble, but now that the smoke had cleared, he could see a way out. Contorting his body as well as he could, he had navigated his way out from under the worst of it when suddenly a slender, ringed hand appeared before him. He grasped it and was guided out the rest of the way, kneeling on the ground to catch his breath.

"Thank you," he said to Hook gratefully.

She nodded, looking down at the object in her hands and it took a moment for him to process what it was. "The compass!" he exclaimed. "How did you get it?"

"The giant and I came to an understanding," she told him quietly. Something was off with her, but Killian couldn't focus on anything but the compass. They had it, finally, and he was one step closer to getting back to Victoria.

"Brilliant!" he said, feeling himself smile for the first time since he and Mary Margaret had fallen through the portal. He held his hand out to her. "Come on, let's get out of here."

What happened next was so quick that if Killian had blinked he would have missed it. Hook pocketed the compass and used her free hand and hook in tandem to clasp a heavy pair of manacles around his wrist. Killian stared down at the cuffs dumfounded as Hook backed away.

"What—what are you doing?" he gasped, leaping to his feet and staring at her in disbelief.

Hook's face was pale and grave as she regarded him. "Jones, I can't, I can't—," she started, eyes blinking down to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

Killian struggled to remain calm. "Emma, look at me," he said, and the use of her name caused her eyes to flit up to his. He held her gaze as best he could. "You don't have to do this."

"You would do the same to me if the tables were turned," she argued, but without any real bite to it.

"Actually no," Killian replied, because the thought hadn't crossed his mind once. There was a pull there, between them. There was something about this woman, this pirate, that made him think that maybe, she was a kindred spirit; someone who life had dealt too many blows, someone who had lost too many people and who found it hard to trust after they'd been left behind so many times. That's why she was doing this. She thought she had to leave him behind before he did the same to her, but the truth was that she didn't. And if she didn't see that...well, it was time for him to use his leverage. "I have to get back to my daughter, Emma," he said fervently. "She needs me." Killian took a deep breath, hoping he was playing his hand at the right time. "And your son needs you."

Her expression became fierce, and she moved closer to him so they stood toe to toe. "How dare you," she snapped. "My son is—"

"Alive," Killian interrupted firmly.

She froze, searching his eyes for the truth, using her "magic power". "Alive?" she breathed. "How—how do you—?"

"About this tall, dark brown hair, goes by the name of Henry?" Killian asked, and Swan nodded her head mutely, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes. "I recognized him from your tattoo. He's back in Storybrooke. Mr. Gold's been masquerading him as his grandson for the last 28 years."

"Henry is his grandson," she said distractedly, and Killian filed that information away for a later date. Hook's features darkened. "That _bastard,_ all these years, I thought—" she stopped, taking a deep breath. "You're—you're quite certain? Because if you're lying, Jones," she trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air, and Killian could see she was struggling not to get her hopes up.

"I'm not," he said gently. "Henry Gold, 10 years old, smart, wise-cracking best friend of my daughter Victoria. He's part of the reason I came to Storybrooke in the first place. Henry's the one who convinced Victoria to come and find me."

Hook didn't say anything, turning her back to him, and Killian could see a distinct tremor to her shoulders. In that moment, she wasn't the hardened pirate or the flirty wench; she was just a mother longing for her child. The urge to take her into his arms and comfort her came out of nowhere, but he restrained himself, allowing only a hopefully soothing hand on her shoulder. She flinched a little, but didn't move away.

"Set me free, Emma," he started, choosing his words carefully. "All we have to do is get those ashes from Cora and then we can go to Storybrooke, together. I promise, you will see your son again. You can trust me."

She inhaled a shaky breath. "It's been a long time since I've trusted anyone," she whispered. Killian's hand fell away from her shoulder as she turned to face him, her expression set with a determined resolve. "But I would do anything to see my boy again, so I suppose there's no time like the present."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever, but I'm still totally invested in this fic! I've been dying to write this chapter since I started writing this fic, and I'm pretty pleased with it. Let me know what you think! :)


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